


the universe is a procession, with measured and beautiful motion

by busaikko



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-07-12
Updated: 2006-07-12
Packaged: 2017-11-04 15:15:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/395260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Remus runs into Severus at a party.   Inspired by <a href="http://lizardspots.livejournal.com/185162.html">Little Black Dress</a> by lizardspots.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the universe is a procession, with measured and beautiful motion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Arionrhod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arionrhod/gifts).



> Magnetic Pole wrote a gorgeous [remix](http://magnetic-pole.livejournal.com/13145.html#cutid1). I have been honored to have podfic recordings by two fantastic readers: [Bronze Ribbons](http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/universe-is-procession-with-measured-and-beautiful-motion) and [malnpudl](http://fan-flashworks.dreamwidth.org/45055.html).
> 
> Title from ["I Sing the Body Electric"](http://www.bartleby.com/142/19.html) by Walt Whitman, for further meditations on the Body and the Soul.
> 
> Beta by Aunty Marion, who knows her way around a nipple; Bronze Ribbons, who makes me beg for more; and Schemingreader, who did me right before her wedding. Er.

Remus was not a glamorous person. He preferred not to _move in circles_ at all, but his publisher had passed on the invitation with a handwritten order: _Go!_ He aired out his Muggle suit, but in the end left the jacket and tie at home. The gathering would be full of artsy types. He'd be conspicuous enough in a button-down.

The hostess was someone he knew vaguely from a rival publishing house. She introduced him to their top authors and illustrators, and then gestured towards a group seated in the lounge.

"… and that's Stephen, who heads up audio," she said, and made sure Remus had a drink before floating back to the newest arrivals.

 _Stephen?_ Remus thought. _Not the name I know him by._

He'd wondered where Severus had disappeared to after the war.

He'd heard about what had happened and felt regret.

And now he could not stop staring at Severus' shoulders.

Severus had always had wonderful posture, and his shoulders were straight, strong, _masculine_ ; Remus saw his muscles twitch as one of the thin black straps slid down off one bare shoulder. Severus slipped the pad of his thumb under the strap at the base, pushing it up slowly. As he did so, he looked up, his eyes fixed straight on Remus, who started so badly his drink sloshed. Severus scowled -- a black, evil look -- and crossed his legs.

The dress should be all wrong, Remus thought; it ought to be absurd. Severus had no cleavage, but the material draped daringly low, so that with each tantalising slip of the straps Remus held his breath for a glimpse of brown areola. Severus didn't try to be pretty: his legs were likely hairless simply to avoid wearing stockings, Remus suspected, but there were electrifying glimpses of tangled dark hair every time he raised his arm (which he did often, gesturing). He wore no make-up; Remus doubted that he had even combed his hair. His glare was defiant, a challenge.

Remus found his body answering, _yes, please_. He wondered how Severus would fuck him in that dress, whether the dress would slide down slowly from shoulders to nipples to taut stomach, past hard ready cock. Whether the dress would be yanked up and off, Severus swearing as the zip tugged at his hair. Whether Severus would simply hike the skirt up to his waist and fuck Remus half-dressed -- Remus liked that image a lot.

But there was more of Severus exposed than hard, shapely calves and strong, wiry arms. Remus watched as Severus got up and walked to the bar. He moved effortlessly in and out of conversations. Despite Severus' scowls and crossed arms, despite the sneer with which he spoke, he was met with nods and smiles; the women seemed compelled to touch him on the arm, as if he were a talisman. Severus was respected here, Remus thought. He'd lost everything in the war; but he had survived. He'd built a new life.

Which was, apparently, the sort of life where he could attend soirées in a little black dress and not attract a second glance for it.

"So, Lupin," purred that devastatingly elegant voice from behind, and Remus half-turned to find Severus watching him with a sardonic smile. "Is it the full moon again? You've been looking at me hungrily."

It was the opening Remus wanted, but some deeper part of his brain stopped him from blurting out, _take me, fuck me, show me what's under that little black dress._

"Have dinner with me," he said instead.

Severus' face changed, and Remus saw flickers of wariness, of distrust, of intrigue. Finally, Severus took a small sip of his wine and looked at Remus. Really looked at him; maybe even saw him.

"A date, Lupin?" Severus said with a twist of his mouth. "Despite appearances, I'm not a girl."

"Don't," Remus said sharply, and Severus' eyebrows rose. More words that Remus could never say -- _don't take the strange wonder of who you are and make it tawdry_ \-- echoed in his head.

Severus' frown deepened. But he named a time and a café before moving away, strong and confident in fuck-me heels.

* * *

Remus had never cared much for fashion: when he'd lived with Tonks she'd had fits when he couldn't tell a babydoll from a corset from a chemise. She'd had fits about other things as well ( _keep your head down, what makes you think you can change the world?_ she said on more than one occasion), and when she'd moved out he'd been lonely but he enjoyed simplicity again. Shirts on top and trousers below; he _was_ a werewolf, he would _live_ as a werewolf, and not hide behind lies again.

So he suspected there was some kind of cosmic irony that his relationship with Severus Snape played out in clothing.

Their first date was a twinset and trousers. Their first kiss was a button-down shirt and soft grey denim jeans. Severus had grimaced afterwards and confessed a hatred of trousers. Remus, giddy from the kiss and the realisation that Severus might be as attracted to him as he was to Severus (if that awkward adjustment was anything to go by), said, _so don't wear them_.

Their next date after _that_ was a short wine-coloured shift with a long, see-through black tunic, and an Alice band. Remus walked Severus home with an arm around his waist, and there was a good deal of kissing in the stairwell.

Two months later it was August and blisteringly hot. Severus picked Remus up in his secondhand car and drove him to the seaside. The beach was Severus in sunglasses and bathing shorts, sunning topless, and water so cold it almost washed away Remus' reaction to all that tempting bare skin.

Severus changed in the toilet before driving back: a white sleeveless shirt whose hem was nearly as long as the shorts he wore underneath.

"Do stop gaping, Lupin," he said, but he smirked all the way back to the car.

Remus finally found his voice as they pulled out of the car park. "Would you like to go out to dinner?"

Severus shot him an amused look. "Haven't you had enough of me yet?"

"No," Remus said, and looked at Severus' sun-browned shoulders and legs.

"Too bad," Severus said. "I want to go home and have a shower. You should, too," he added. "There's sand in your hair." Remus reached up to check, and Severus grabbed his wrist. "Do _not_ get sand in my car."

Remus settled for holding Severus' hand until he had to change gear (which Severus did with unusual clumsiness).

"You could have dinner at my house," Severus said, keeping his eyes on the road ahead.

"I'd like that," Remus said.

Severus' flat was on the fourth floor: _no wonder his legs are so gorgeous,_ Remus always thought. He let Severus lead the way up the stairs. He knew Severus knew he was watching.

Remus had never been inside the flat before. The stairwell was dark and dank, so the airy brightness of the rooms was a surprise. Severus opened all the windows, and the curtains danced in the late evening breeze.

"Not to be inhospitable," Severus said, opening the refrigerator, "but if I take the first shower, I can make dinner while you bathe." He poured two mismatched glasses of water and handed Remus one. "You can look at the scenery or at the books, but if I catch you prying into anything personal I'll never forgive you."

Remus drank half the water at one go and grinned. "I could just sit on your sofa and quiver with fear."

"You're damp and sandy. Don't you dare sit on my sofa." Severus paused. "You can use magic here, in the flat. I don't -- I can't. But you don't need to try and spare my delicate sensibilities."

"Neither do you," Remus retorted, smiling to show that he meant no harm. "If you want the sand banished, tell me."

"You could clean and dry the towels while you're at it."

Remus salaamed. "Your wish is my command."

Severus still had an evil smile as he headed for the bathroom.

They ate on the roof, Severus having passed the dinner things out the window before climbing after Remus. The sunset was magnificent. Severus said it was the air pollution and the humidity that gave it that tropical glow, and Remus kissed him while the stars came out.

Remus had experienced many kinds of kisses in his forty-odd years, and he was fairly sure that these were not _goodnight, go home now_ kisses. He rather hoped they were _stay the night_ kisses. The wind blew cold; the dishes were taken in and piled in the kitchen sink. There were more kisses, and hands sliding under shirts now. Remus' night vision was good, but he could barely make out Severus' face in the dark as they moved, still kissing, down the corridor past the bath, and into the bedroom.

The room was tiny, but it had large windows on two sides that made it seem open to the sky. Laughter and traffic noises drifted up from the street below. Severus pulled Remus to a stop and began stripping his clothes off. Shirt first, then vest, then trousers. He hesitated at the elastic band of Remus' boxers; Remus kissed him (an _it's all right, I want this, I want you_ kiss) and removed them himself.

He dropped back onto the bed, tugging Severus down with him. He pushed Severus' shirt up and undid the zip on the shorts, which Severus slipped out of with a relieved sigh. Remus smoothed the shirt down over Severus' arse and traced the hem across Severus' thighs.

"Whatever are you doing, Lupin?" Severus asked, half-curled over Remus and rubbing the areolas of his nipples lazily.

"Remembering your little black dress," Remus said. "The way you walked in those heels, the way the skirt fell back when you crossed your legs. I wanted you so badly that night."

"I would have slept with you," Severus said, and leant forward to lick each nipple in turn.

"Would it have been more than a one night curiosity?" Remus asked, and felt Severus stiffen against him. "Werewolves -- are they really wild in bed?"

"Oddly enough, I've never wondered that," Severus said dryly. "I was forgetting that you are a greater oddity than I am."

"Will wonders never cease," Remus said. He reached down and framed Severus' face with his hands. "I don't want this to be one night. I don't want to be fucked by your little black dress, sexy as it was. I want you, and I want to be with you."

"Then stop talking," Severus said, low enough to be a whisper. He sat up and pulled the shirt off, and Remus moved quickly, straddling Severus' thighs and ducking his head to kiss him, hands pressed to the back of Severus' shoulders.

Severus had to arch his neck to kiss back, reaching down to stroke Remus' arse. Remus rocked against him, their cocks bumping and rubbing, but not enough to bring any kind of satisfaction. Severus shifted in impatience.

Remus pulled back, smiling wolfishly. "Do you have lube?"

"I'm living _en Muggle_ , what do you think?" Severus said, and Remus let him wriggle free to fetch the tube from the bedside drawer, along with a condom. Remus pushed Severus down on the bed and lapped at his navel, which wrung a sharp laugh of surprise from Severus.

"Ticklish, are you?" Remus said, turning his head so his hair brushed over Severus' stomach.

"Not at all," Severus said, pushing at the back of Remus' head. Remus shifted so that the tip of his tongue made contact with the tip of Severus' cock, and Severus trembled, all over. Encouraged, Remus began exploring with mouth and hands, learning what drew a reaction, what made Severus arch up or twist away. It was a fun game, and one he hoped to play often and well, but right now he wanted more.

He gave Severus' cock one last good taste and then groped for the condom. He rolled it on without making a mess of it ( _go me,_ he thought) and slicked Severus' cock with maybe a bit too much of the lube (it was better quality than the stuff he kept for masturbation). He kept his hand there, wrapped around the base of Severus' cock, as he straddled Severus' hips, positioned himself, and sank down.

 _Definitely too much lube,_ he thought, having to stop and pant until his body adjusted to the too-quick intrusion. Severus had reached up and taken his hands; Remus shut his eyes and concentrated on the interlacing of their fingers as he took a breath, then another, and relaxed his hips as he lowered himself until he was as full of Severus as he ever would be.

"There," he said, releasing Severus' hands and sitting up straight. In the darkness, he couldn't see enough of Severus' face. The shine of dark eyes on him; flashes of chin as Severus' head rolled back. It wasn't a handsome face, but Remus had wanted to see that sharp sardonic intelligence dissolve into the inevitability of orgasm. Ah, well, there would be tomorrow.

Severus thrust up tentatively, then grabbed Remus' hips and began fucking him, hard. There was no delicate, coordinated rhythm to their movements: sometimes Remus was pulling away as Severus surged up. Sometimes they slammed into each other with a force that made Remus see stars. Sometimes the dizzy feeling of being on the verge of release brought Remus to a quivering stop and Severus snarled at him.

Remus was gone, too far gone to speak, although he would have begged if he could have. Severus moved one hand down to stroke Remus' aching cock, and Remus threw back his head and howled as he came. Severus held him up, driving into Remus with a desperate urgency.

"Come for me, come for me," Remus chanted, blinking hair and sweat out of his eyes as he tried to watch Severus' face. "God, I love you, come for me -- "

Severus' eyes squeezed shut; his hands closed with bruising force around Remus' hips. A low groan escaped his clenched teeth. Remus rested his palms against Severus's stomach until he felt him relax, and then slid up to kiss Severus.

 _I meant it,_ he wanted his kisses to say, _I want you to be mine. You're rare and wild and beautiful and I love you._

He fancied that Severus' kisses were his reply.

Remus woke to the sunrise, the world splendid in gold and red and white. He settled back as the light filled the room, wondering if he ought to close the blinds. Severus stirred, and Remus remembered that he was naked under the sheet.

"You're up early," Severus said, eyes still shut.

"I'm enjoying the view," Remus said, and Severus looked at him then, wary and braced as if for bad news. "It's like being in heaven, up here."

"I've always thought it might be," Severus said, and Remus settled his head on Severus' chest, where the sound of one heart was louder than that of the wakening city.

**Author's Note:**

> Soundtrack  
> A Minor Place (Bonnie Prince Billy), Que Sera Sera (Pink Martini), Son of a Preacherman (Cam Clarke), Raining in Darling (Bonnie Prince Billy), All Will Be Well (Gabe Dixon Band), Et Dans 150 Ans (Raphael)


End file.
